


What a Convenient Arrangement

by scatter



Series: A Friendly Gesture [2]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Community: badbadbathhouse, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Power Imbalance, Sexual Abuse, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-30
Updated: 2011-04-30
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatter/pseuds/scatter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dojima takes advantage of Souji's need to be praised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What a Convenient Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel/tie-in full of bad touching.

"Damn inconvenience, that's what you are."

Coaxed by a mixture of frustration, anger, and booze, the words were out of Dojima's mouth before he could think about them. The murder case had him on edge. It was going nowhere – no real suspects, no real motives, no conceivable reason for someone to string women up on telephone lines. Souji was underfoot again, had been since he'd arrived, always in the kitchen trying to cook something or sticking his nose in the case where it didn’t belong despite repeated warnings about the danger. As Dojima reached for another beer and bumped into him, unused to having another person in the house, the last of his fraying patience snapped and he turned his frustration onto Souji.

Souji jerked like he'd been slapped and stepped away from him. He didn't say anything, of course; he was perfectly respectful, had been since the way he arrived, and somehow managed to be all the more aggravating because of it. If he'd been rude or difficult, Dojima could have an easy outlet for his irritation, but he was denied even that. Now, Dojima didn't care. He was going to use Souji, show him that this quiet polite act wasn't a shield.

"Make yourself useful, do something!" Too loud; Nanako might wake up. He lowered his voice and, inspired, shot out another comment, "Why's Nanako still taking care of the house? Aren't you a grown man, can't you clean after yourself instead of letting a little girl take care of everything? Did you come here expecting to freeload?"

Each word brought a sense of relief, took a weight off of his shoulders. He'd been holding the thoughts in since the day Souji arrived. He hadn't wanted this kid in his house, didn't like the idea of some stranger invading his space when he could barely take care of Nanako. What had his sister been thinking, flying halfway across the world and leaving him with Dojima?

Souji flinched and lowered his head, but he stood there and listened until Dojima ran himself dry. He didn't say a word the whole time, didn't stick up for himself once, just trembled and took it and, when Dojima waved him away in disgust, retreated up the stairs. Dojima let him go, sunk onto the couch and tried in vain to relax and enjoy the relief that came with getting all of that off his chest. He'd feel guilty later, apologize in the morning, and say it'd just been the booze talking after a long day at work. Souji would understand.

Except an early call into work kept him from seeing Souji before he went to school, a late night had him back at the house when they were both in bed, and after that there was always something to put off the conversation – Nanako in the room, Souji out with his friends, Dojima not wanting to ruin a good atmosphere – and gradually it slipped to the back of his mind. When he did remember, bringing it back up just seemed awkward. Why mention it when Souji never did, make things uncomfortable when he didn't have to?

And, dammit, it'd worked, hadn't it? Maybe Souji'd needed a stern word, a verbal smack. Maybe all that traveling he did made it impossible for his parents to properly discipline him. Whatever the reason, he took over the bulk of the housework so that Nanako could go and play with her friends, started taking care of dinner, and no longer got in Dojima's way. If he seemed unusually unsure of himself at times, if he snuck worried glances at Dojima, well, he'd get over it. Wasn't like Dojima had threatened him or said another harsh word since then.

Things continued like this for a few weeks, the two of them stuck in an uneasy truce, until another hard day of work found Dojima staying up late and turning to alcohol for a respite. Nanako was asleep, tucked into bed by Souji because Dojima'd gotten home too late again, and the television set was on but Dojima barely paid attention to it, comforted some by the background noise. He grunted when Souji came down the stairs and stood in the shadows.

"You look tense, Uncle."

Dojima wasn't in the mood to talk, stopped himself from saying a smart remark by taking a sip of beer. Of course he was tense; the murder case was still going nowhere, and hours of pouring over reports only led to confusion, dead ends, and headaches.

"I can help you take care of that." Souji crept forward on quiet feet, the light of the TV washing out his features. With slow, almost lazy movements, he leaned over Dojima, long body trapping him in place without touching him. His voice was odd but pitched in such a way that his next statement couldn't be taken as anything other than invitation. "I'll make up for being such an inconvenience. I promise I'll do a good job."

Dozens of reasons to say no: Souji was a boy and Dojima wasn't into that; he was a minor and this was against the law; this was his _nephew_ , put under his care to be kept safe, and he wasn't going to betray the trust shown in him, wasn't going to practice incest. But damn if Souji didn't how to tempt a man; mind buzzing from his drinks, Dojima had never been more aware of just how attractive he was with those long legs and pale skin, and even with an unsettling, vacant look in them, his eyes were arresting. Pictures didn't do a boy like him justice. Dojima'd said so on their meeting and he'd thought it many times since, casually when they were eating dinner, dangerously when he was alone. He thought it again now as he eyed the neck being presented to him, gripped the forgotten beer in a hand that moved on the neck of the bottle restlessly.

Easy to say yes in the dark; bad things, forbidden things, seemed more forgivable then. Easier to close his eyes and pretend his nephew wasn't down on his knees, hands working at his belt, on his cock, and to imagine that this was someone else's mouth, someone else's tongue bringing him the kind of pleasure he hadn't felt in too long.

"Wait, Souji, don't—"

Souji didn't wait. He licked harder and kept his mouth where it was, the temptation too much for Dojima to resist. Afterwards, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he didn't look happy. He didn't upset, either, and when he stood up he wasn't even aroused. The blank look on his face made Dojima a little nauseous, sobered him up some so he was more aware of what had just occurred.

"Was it any good? Did you like it?"

After not being touched in years, anything would have been good, but this hadn't been some sloppy first time blowjob. Souji knew what he was doing and it'd been good enough to deserve praise, even as the reality of the moment started to sink in. Gruffly, he said, "You were fine, Souji."

That got a reaction. The blank look on his face disappeared as Souji smiled in obvious relief, and Dojima was struck by the realization that Souji hadn't really smiled at him in weeks or looked at him with anything other than worry. The knowledge made Dojima feel worse than ever, so he kept talking, hoping to make up for his emotional absence. "Great, even. Couldn't have been better."

"You're embarrassing me." Speaking softly, Souji turned away to hide his face but he couldn't stop Dojima from seeing the red flush that appeared or, more telling, the bulge starting to form in his pants.

Curiosity got the best of him. "Haven't felt this good in a long while," he said, and watched Souji pull his night shirt down to hide himself, breath quickening. "You're too good to me."

Souji bit his lip, worried it between his teeth. "I should go to bed now."

"You do that."

Dojima waited a minute before following him up and putting an ear to his door. Poorly muffled moans drifted through the wood, a breathless repetition of his compliments spurring Souji towards a pathetic sounding orgasm.

Dojima took a shower and tried to forget the whole thing.

That turned out to be impossible, especially with the way Souji looked in the morning, happier than he'd been in a while. Happier than he'd been around Dojima, at least. Still watching himself to make sure he didn't get in the way, true, but less worried glances now, no suddenly freezing up.

It could have stopped there. Dojima had this answer. A harsh dressing down wasn't the answer; Souji needed praise, craved it so much that it physically excited him. A few kind words could go a long way to keeping everything in order and last night could be a forgotten footnote in their history, never brought up or thought about again. He knew how to fix things, how to put them back on track.

He told himself he wanted it to happen again because his hypothesis had to be tested.

A few days of watching his words, of deliberately harping on small mistakes, a couple of beers for courage, and a suggestion that Souji stay up and watch some television with him after Nanako went to sleep put everything in place.

"It's been a hard week," he said and didn't have to fake the tiredness in his voice, "and I still think you're up to something. You've been spending too much time around Junes. Heard from Nanako you were there all afternoon."

"I'm not," Souji said, wilting under the words. It was odd to see him that way when he was usually so confident and relaxed, so skilled at making other people feel good about themselves. "I was just hanging out with Yosuke while he worked."

Dojima knew that was true – he'd seen the two of them goofing off in the aisles, the Junes boy trying to stock shelves while Souji alternated between helping and hindering his progress – but it was still a way in, a chink in Souji's armor. "I'm disappointed in you," he said. No need to fake the scolding tone of his voice either, because that was true as well. He knew Souji was hiding something, though he didn't know what, and the thought bothered him.

Souji hunched over, drawing in on himself. His mouth was set in a thin line, eyes downcast.

A swig of beer to steel himself and then, staring at the TV without seeing it, Dojima said, "Make it up to me."

He told himself this: if Souji did it again – did it without Dojima prompting him – then he wanted it and there was no need for guilt. If Souji had to be pushed or prodded or if he manned up and walked away, Dojima would never bring it up again. He wasn't going to force him.

The relief he felt when Souji got between his legs was sickening.

It was better this time; the edge of desperation made it better. No blank, staring eyes now, none of that odd, determined confidence. Souji watched him carefully, responded to each twitch and sigh, and every line of his body showed he was hoping for some kind word. When Dojima didn't speak, the seconds of silence weighed down on him, made him work harder until he panted with exertion.

Dojima tangled a hand in his hair, tugged him down. "Take some more."

Souji did without complaint, without gagging – good at this, why was the damn kid so good at this? – eager to please, movements almost frantic with his need for acknowledgement.

"You're doing fine." Dojima smoothed his hair back, used his hand to show Souji what he wanted, thrust up sharply. "Just great."

Souji made a noise, half moan, half relieved sob, that went straight to Dojima's cock, got him hard in a way that the sight of Souji kneeling before him hadn't managed. When Dojima climaxed without warning, he milked every drop out of him, swallowed, and came when Dojima patted his cheek and told him how pleased he was.

After that, he withheld his praise, told himself it was because he didn't want to spoil Souji. He was a young man, well past the age where he needed a father figure to congratulate him over every little thing. Hard deny the thrill that came with every little frown, though, the pleasure that went through him when Souji flinched and looked away, or the amazing results it produced – Souji dropping hard to his knees, tongue and mouth wrapped around him without hesitation, eyes begging for some word of approval. He was almost vulgar in his need for acceptance, and when Dojima gave the words he wanted, doled them out like candy, Souji moaned obscenely and came in his pants.

Dojima thought of it as rent. He hadn't asked for a teenager to come live with them, didn't know how to deal with one, and Souji's actions made up for the hassle Dojima had to deal with, gave him a moment to forget about his troubles. He soothed his conscious by reassuring himself that except for the hair pulling, he wasn't touching Souji. If he got off, it was from his psychological ticks, things Dojima couldn't control, and if he flattered himself by thinking it wasn't the words so much as the fact that he was the one saying them then it all boiled down to the reality that they were both getting what they wanted.

Souji had come to him that first time, had gone to his knees without prompt the second. He did it willingly; he wanted this, would be devastated if Dojima told him to stop.

It was for the boy's own good, really.


End file.
